Death stalks the city

Sometimes Bahamut doesn't look like a city at war. Today, for instance, the snow is fresh and clean, yet to be churned up by the tread of running boots and the tracks of krawls.

It's one of the many calms between storms, when the city seems at peace because everyone is taking a deep breath in preparation for returning to war. Even n these deceitfully quiet times, though, Bahamut is still a warzone. Soldiers from both sids tread lightly and carefully through the bombed out buildings and burnt bodies, looking for chances to kill one another.

Today is no different.